


Summer Lovin'

by shukagari



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, au in which they don't have practice in the summer for the au to work, grocery store employee kyoutani, set in the summer of their third year, thirsty yahaba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7215664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shukagari/pseuds/shukagari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyoutani gets a summer job at Yahaba's local grocery store, and shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Lovin'

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!! I hope you are having a beautiful day, and I hope you like this :)
> 
> Title is from Grease, just in case you didn't know :)

Summer has swung around again along with its sweltering heat, brightly burning sun and hopefully, Yahaba thinks, it will also come with cooling, delectable ice cream as he heads into his local grocery store. 

He is innocently browsing the freezer section, tossing back and forth between his choices of cookies and cream ice cream, or plain old vanilla when a quiet mutter of, “ _shit,_ ” goes off to his right, along with the sound of a broom clattering out of someone's hands. 

He turns towards it, with a polite curiosity, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and only just catches sight of Kyoutani angrily stalking out of his aisle, his green employee waistcoat flapping behind him as he goes. 

-

Yahaba sidles up to the only other available worker in the shop, a mean looking old lady with deep frown lines around her thin lips and a short curly bob on her head, sharply cut to make her jaw look even more pointed than it already does; a badge glistens brightly on her chest declaring her as the manager. 

Yahaba leans against the counter, slides a crisp note - after a brief awkward moment of fumbling for it in his pocket as she glares at him – to her, giving her a meaningful look, “What can you tell me about a boy here?” he says, raising his eyebrows. 

She snatches the money up, inspects it under the light, then leans in close, gesturing him forwards with a stubby finger and whispers into his eager ear, “I don't disclose my employees information,” a smug smile slides into place as she puts the money into her breast pocket and pats it gently.

“Sorry,” he says a little sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck, “I saw it in a movie and kind of wanted to try it,” he holds up the cookies and cream ice cream in his hand, “I guess you can count that as money for this,” he says, and then tacks on in a mumble, “although I think I gave you too much”. 

“It's okay,” she says tersely, ignoring the last part, then pointedly looks away from him, staring up at the whirring ceiling fan, a clear sign of dismissal. 

He steps into her line of sight again, not one to take a hint this time around, “Just _please_ tell me if you have an employee here called Kyoutani?” he almost whines, trying to channel his inner Oikawa-san as he attempts to imitate the pout he's seen Iwaizumi-san give into many times. 

She squints at him, then purses her lips thoughtfully, “You a friend of his?” she asks.

“Well, yeah,” he says after a moments hesitation, as they kind of have become closer in their third year – being an ace and a setter, respectively, generally leads to a closer relationship – and they do sit together at lunch now, upon Watari's insistence and there _is_ a great deal of trust between them when they play; so Yahaba kind of considers them friends. “We're on the same volleyball team,” he adds as an afterthought. 

Her eyes light up with understanding, “ _Oh_ ,” she says, “the volleyball team,” and nods her head, finally satisfied.

Yahaba preens a little at having been able to convince such a suspicious woman, and says, a little boastfully, “I'm also the captain.”. 

“Oh, _you_ are the captain,” she says, and then she smiles at him in a way he doesn't understand or particularly like. She stabs a thumb to the back-room, “I'll just go get him,” she says, the smile not leaving her face, “You just wait here.”

Yahaba immediately starts furiously shaking his head, “No, no,” he says, “it's okay,” he points to the exit, already backing towards it, “I'll just be going now, you don't need to bother him,” he bows to her, gives another half-bow out of awkwardness and then hurries out the door. 

“You come back soon Yahaba-kun!” she calls after him, and Yahaba doesn't even pause to wonder how she knows his name. 

-

His mum is sprawled out on the couch, reading a magazine when he gets home.

Yahaba flops himself down beside her, sitting close, “Guess who I saw today at the grocery store?” He says, and pokes her insistently on the leg to get her attention when she doesn't guess immediately. 

“Who?” she hums, her eyes not leaving her magazine as she reads a particularly engrossing article on the merits of using newspaper to clean windows (no streaks! The title cries). 

He smiles brightly, undeterred by her lack of enthusiasm, “Kyoutani,” he tells her.

She raises her eyebrows, finally looking at him over the top of her reading glasses, “Oh,” she says, folding the corner of her magazine before shutting it, “the boy you always talk about?”.

Yahaba shrinks away from her, an offended look on his face, “I don't always talk about him,” he huffs, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck. 

She snorts, “Of course you don't,” she says warmly, turning back to her magazine with a roll of her eyes, like she hasn't had to put up with his almost daily rants about Kyoutani. 

“I don't,” he says, although there's little reason to, she's already gone back to ignoring him. He gets up, sulks around the back of the couch for a moment in the hopes that she'll take it back, but when she makes no motion to, he sighs and heads up to his room. 

-

Yahaba quietly goes down the stairs, one slow step at a time, glancing into his mother's room on the way down, and then he creeps across the landing towards the front door just as the sun's light is beginning to creep into the sky. 

“Where are you going?” his mother asks, sitting up abruptly from the couch where she must have fallen asleep and catching him in the act; she wipes the drool from her chin and blinks blearily up at him, “It's too early for you to be up,” she scolds tiredly. 

He startles, and gives her a nervous smile, “Oh, you know,” he says sheepishly, not meeting her eyes as he lies, “just out for a walk”.

“It's the holidays,” she grumbles to him, collapsing back on the couch, “go back to sleep”.

“I'm not tired,” he says, even though sleep is itching at his eyes, “I feel like going for a walk”.

She waves a dismissive hand at him with a tired sigh of, “Okay,” her eyes already closing again, and Yahaba quickly seizes his chance to fling open the front door and hurry out in a bid to avoid any more questions. 

He's just locking up, feeling weirdly giddy and relieved, when he hears her call, her voice slightly muffled from behind the door, “Can you pick up some milk when you're at the store?!”. 

He pouts softly, saddened to find himself so predictable, hops on his bike and decides to take a completely coincidental bike ride past the grocery store (that he, of course, only thought to take after his mum mentioned it). 

-

Yahaba doesn't enter at first, instead he stands outside, glancing in through the automatic doors every few seconds, before shrinking back against the wall and wondering if he should just go home. When he does finally get up the courage to enter, it comes with a sigh of relief at having escaped the summer heat, even though it is still relatively cool at this time in the morning. 

It's the kind of store which has a weird smell perpetually hanging in the air, like that of burning rubber (that is probably coming from the cheap air conditioner which rattles on its perch in the corner) and that sells a wide variety of merchandise, from low-brand foods to copies of teen films that were vaguely popular about a decade ago (the sort of store he can kind of see suiting Kyoutani, _kind of_ – although he thinks a pet store due to his love of animals, or a sports store, he shamelessly muses, due to his buff arms would work better). And therefore not usually one that would warrant a sigh of relief, as the smell would normally hit you two times harder if you did, which could never be good thing and which leaves Yahaba spluttering noisily – he glances around in embarrassment when he's done, hoping Kyoutani isn't around and only meets the eyes of the manager whose are tinged with amusement.

Yahaba awkwardly smiles at her, and moves onto browsing. With the amount of merchandise around to be stared at without really seeing due to nerves, Yahaba believes he has an ample excuse to loiter around – although the knowing grin the manager is throwing him from behind the counter says he's already been found out. 

He nervously edges further away from her, deciding to scour the aisles instead, glancing up and down each one before moving onto the next one with his frown growing a little deeper each time at finding them empty except for a few other early morning shoppers. 

Yahaba doesn't exactly know why he even wants to see Kyoutani, he knows that he probably wants to say hi (although Kyoutani's gruffness, and lacking social etiquette might make him skip greetings altogether if he is pushed), ask him how his summer is going (may not get to this, due to same reasons stated above) because Yahaba is a polite and friendly individual who is genuinely interested in how his ace is getting on, maybe tease him a little as is their usual way of going about things, and he also wants to ask him where they keep the milk (the highest possibility of success, Kyoutani is an employee here so he should therefore, hopefully, feel an obligation to answer) because he sure as hell isn't approaching the manager again. Other than that he can't come up with anything (getting to properly see Kyoutani in his uniform slips into his mind as a pretty convincing point, but he pushes that away with a shake of his head). 

After a quarter of an hour of fruitless roaming, he sighs, closing his eyes as he leans against a shelf of cereal and lets the disappointment settle. He supposes he should just go home, his mother is bound to be getting more suspicious than she already is (although she'd definitely already figured it out). 

“Why are you walking around looking so nervous?” A familiar gruff voice says close to him, and Yahaba startles; knocking a couple of boxes of cereal off the shelf in his surprise. Kyoutani watches him wearily, then bends to pick up the boxes as Yahaba gets on his hands and knees too, a blush sitting warmly on his cheeks, with a quiet murmur of, “ _Sorry_ ”. 

Yahaba shrugs, a delayed reaction to his question, trying to feign indifference, “Can't I do my shopping in peace without you bothering me?” he asks, a tense grin sliding into place as he scoops up the cereal boxes into his arms. 

Kyoutani furrows his eyebrows, looking up at him, his face an unnatural pale for him under the crappy lighting of the low brand grocery store. “You looked suspicious,” he says finally, and okay, maybe Yahaba hadn't considered stalking up and down the aisles like a man on a mission, his head whipping back and forth as he searched as suspicious behaviour, and maybe he definitely should have.

He scratches nervously at the back of his neck, “Sorry,” he says, an apologetic curve to his lips, “I hope I didn't get you into any trouble?” He asks.

“No,” Kyoutani says, and then blushes, continuing on in a quieter, almost embarrassed tone of voice, “I told her you were my friend,” he murmurs standing up next to him and not meeting Yahaba's eyes. 

“Oh,” Yahaba murmurs, pleasantly surprised, and then grins, “I told her the same thing yesterday,” punching Kyoutani softly in the arm and adding, “so there's no need for you to be embarrassed”. Kyoutani only seems to darken in colour at that. 

“What are you here for anyway?” Kyoutani asks, moving the subject along onto more uncomfortable grounds for Yahaba, although better ones for him, as he scratches at his red cheek.

Yahaba shoots out a hand and blindly reaches out to the shelf next to him, grabs a hard feeling box of what he assumes is cereal and shoves it into Kyoutani's face, “I am here for this,” he says. 

“Cat food?” Kyoutani asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

Yahaba swallows thickly, glances down at the box in his hands, thinks _what kind of store shelves cat food and cereal right next to each other?!_ and says, a picture of perfect composure, “Yes, cat food,” then wonders, in the panic centre that is his brain, if he should lie about having a cat or, on the opposing side (and which is also a lie) say it is his favourite snack. 

Kyoutani motions for him to follow him, heading towards the counter, “I didn't know you had a cat,” he says quietly. 

“Pah, of course I do Kyoutani!” he cries, his loudness stemming from the anxiety that consumes him when he makes a particularly tricky lie, following him closely, “why would I be buying cat food if I didn't have a cat?” he gives a forced laugh.

When they get to the counter, Kyoutani turns to him and there's something like a barely tamped down excitement brimming in his eyes that Yahaba just simply cannot refuse when he asks, “Can I meet your cat?”. 

“Of course,” Yahaba smiles falsely, feeling it twitch at the corners in his effort to keep it up, “come over whenever you like”.

“Thanks,” Kyoutani murmurs, a gentle smile sliding onto his face that makes Yahaba's cheeks warm at the sight of it and he quickly glances away. 

Kyoutani rings him up, the manager watches them closely from behind her book and then slowly reaches into her pocket – Yahaba freezes, and then breathes a sigh of relief as she just pulls out a handful of coins. Then she reaches across the counter towards him, and he freezes yet again, whilst she motions for him to come forward with a finger – he mechanically throws up his arm to her and she grabs it, gently placing the exact change from his ice cream the day before into his hand and then pats him on the shoulder with a quiet, “Take care of yourself,” before returning to her vigil behind her book.

Kyoutani watches the exchange, eyebrows furrowed and looks to Yahaba in question, who shakes his head and murmurs, “Doesn't matter”. 

“Kentarou,” the manager pipes up, not removing her eyes from her page, “you should help him take his things out, he's too scrawny to lift them”. 

“Yes,” Yahaba agrees, ignoring the _scrawny_ comment as he's more focussed on the use of Kyoutani's first name (does Kyoutani like them _that_ old? He worries), “help me take them to the car”.

Kyoutani face crinkles in bemusement, “You are too young to drive,” he points out.

“To my bike,” Yahaba easily rectifies, and then turns and struts toward the exit, leaving his shopping behind; Kyoutani grabs the food and hastens after him. 

“Ugh,” Yahaba says when they step outside, blinking under the bright sun, “I carry on forgetting how hot it is outside”.

Kyoutani nods thoughtfully, then proceeds to spit some shocking truth. “Sorry about my grandma,” Kyoutani says and Yahaba chokes on it. 

“She's your grandma?!” he splutters, and then he thinks back to the deep-cutting frown lines and the menacing aura about her, “Oh, no wait I can see it,” he says, nodding his head thoughtfully. 

Kyoutani squints at him, “You changed your mind quick,” he says, the resemblance becoming more prominent when he scowls, “why?”. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Yahaba says, waving his hand airily as he quickly gets onto his bike to make a speedy getaway, “I just realised cause, you know, you both have pretty eyes I guess,” he murmurs, after Kyoutani had continued to scowl at him, he scratches at the back of his neck, face warm. 

“You think my grandma has pretty eyes?” Kyoutani asks, completely oblivious to the fact that Yahaba inadvertently complimented his eyes too (Does Yahaba like them _that_ old? He worries to himself). 

“Yeah, I guess,” Yahaba says, even though he hasn't actually looked her in the eyes – the aforementioned menacing aura has kept his eyes firmly fixed on a point behind her head. “And you,” Yahaba goes onto say, biting softly into his bottom lip, “also look cute in your uniform,” and he slowly lets go of his lip; his eyes sliding over Kyoutani's little green waistcoat, polished black shoes and his tight, smart work trousers. 

He flashes his eyes back up to Kyoutani who has turned away, his face pointed back towards the store to hide his fiery blush. He waves him away, “Get out of here asshole,” he grumbles and Yahaba just laughs; gone are the days that he'd even think to be scared of Kyoutani. 

“See you soon,” he says, prodding Kyoutani gently in the shoulder with his fingertips before setting off on his bike. 

Yahaba turns at the corner to wave and almost falls from his bike and Kyoutani feels his lips twitch upwards, he shakes his head, bites into his bottom lip and heads back into the store. 

–

Yahaba sits in agony in the twilight hours of the evening, forehead pressed to the hard metal between the handlebars of his bike. “Why didn't I just say I was buying the cat food for a neighbour?” he groans quietly, as he sits outside his house under the flickering light of a street lamp. 

–

“We need to get a cat!” Yahaba yells as he slams open the front door; which is not the weirdest thing he's ever yelled upon entering so his mother doesn't find it so alarming (the weirdest one being, which he'd asked when his second year was coming to an end, “Can you be sexually attracted to stripes?” a question which had kept her up for many nights in a row, wanting a cat barely scratches the surface of his weird questions). 

“You get the milk?” She asks instead, adding the curry paste to her steaming pot of chicken, and then proceeds to do a spectacular job of ignoring his request as she thinks _maybe he does deserve a cat, he's been working very hard this past year_. 

“Nope!” Yahaba smiles at her, just a touch apologetic (which he only fabricates for his own safety against his mother's wrath), “But I'll go back tomorrow,” he says, sounding gleefully happy to now have an excuse to do so. 

And then he joins her by the stove, saying in exclamation, “Wow it smells good, mum!” before she can ask any questions about where he's been. 

– 

The next few days finds Yahaba spending almost every waking moment at the store – the other moments he spends travelling there and back, or ranting to his mum in intense detail about what exactly he and Kyoutani got up to that day (which mainly consists of Yahaba following Kyoutani round, an endless stream of chatter coming from his mouth, whilst Kyoutani listens quietly, and intently as he gets on with his work). 

–

“Why didn't you tell me you got a job here?” Yahaba asks one of those days, leaning his arms against the counter as he watches Kyoutani sort through the money he and his grandmother had taken in that day.

Kyoutani raises his eyebrows at him in surprise, “Well,” he says, “we didn't really talk that much outside of practice so it'd be kind of weird, right?”. 

Yahaba frowns, “We sit together at lunch,” he points out. 

“Yeah, but I never really talked,” Kyoutani says, “I just kind of sat there and listened.” Which _is_ true, Yahaba muses, Kyoutani normally just turned his eyes on whoever was talking, stared at them intensely until they were done and then looked on to the next speaker (Kindaichi always broke out in a terrible sweat whenever he said a line, and would quickly finish up his piece). 

“No,” Yahaba says, waggling a finger, “a couple of weeks ago you told us about your dog after Watari asked if you had any pets, and I,” he points to himself, “I said she sounded cute, you _see_ we do talk outside of practice, so much conversation, I can't believe I don't have your number”.

Kyoutani scowls at him in confusion.

“I was joking,” Yahaba says, then leans close, eyebrows raised, “But on that note can I get your number?”. 

“I don't have a phone,” Kyoutani tells him, and Yahaba slinks back, a little embarrassed, “I'm always with my family and they are the only ones who would text me so I never thought to buy one.”

“Oh,” Yahaba says, shoving his phone back into his pocket, “well let me know if you ever get one”. 

–

“For you,” Yahaba says one cool summer evening as Kyoutani is just locking up. He feels himself perspiring gently beneath his shirt, as Kyoutani looks down, expression neutral, to the chocolate he'd just bought clutched in his hands.

Kyoutani pries it from his shaking fingers with a gentleness that does not fit in with his trademark scowl, “Thank you,” he grunts quietly, and tenderly places it into his bag. 

Yahaba smiles happily once he's taken it, and hops on his bike, turning to wave at the bottom of the street as has become the custom at the end of the day, and Kyoutani smiles softly, scratching at the back of his neck.

Kyoutani's grandmother snorts quietly in the background, watching their awkward exchange, and then claps Kyoutani on the back to get him to stop staring at the spot were Yahaba had just disappeared, in a daze. 

– 

Another day finds Yahaba handing Kyoutani tools as he tries to fix the air conditioner, both of them sweating buckets as his grandma yells them instructions from her comfortable seat behind the counter, throwing Yahaba smug grins whenever he looks over at her. 

Kyoutani is met with Yahaba's kind smile whenever he looks down for the next tool, and their fingers brush too many times for it to be a coincidence. Kyoutani's grandmother exaggeratedly pretends to throw up, and Yahaba shoots her his own smug grin. 

(Kyoutani is completely oblivious to the pair of them). 

–

One evening has them sitting out in front of the store, taking advantage of the cool evening air. They sit on the curb which has cooled down from its time beneath the sun so it doesn't burn their thighs, legs stretched out in front of them, Yahaba chomping happily down on an ice cream. 

He talks with his mouth full about volleyball, and his mum, and Watari, and an endless list of other things that Kyoutani quietly listens to as he watches the ice cream drip down his chin and thinks too much about reaching over and wiping it away, until he eventually psyches himself out and instead turns his gaze to the sinking sun. 

They both watch the sun dip beneath the horizon, and Yahaba turns to Kyoutani, whose skin glows beneath the orange light, a wide genuine grin on his lips that has Kyoutani's heart thumping out of step.

–

Watari soon finds out, and one of the rare days Yahaba can't make it to the store, and after all of Yahaba's whining about not being able to go, Watari decides to go himself in a bid to fill his friend's _insatiable lust_ (as Watari had coined it) for Kyoutani's face. 

The first picture he sends is of a naturally scowling Kyoutani, obliviously stacking the shelves with the tagline 'moping because you're not here'. The next is of Kyoutani taking notice of him, the following is Kyoutani reaching out for his phone, his expression murderous, and the last is a selfie of Watari's gleeful face as he flees the store. 

 

– 

One day, Yahaba is late. Kyoutani watches the door, and tries to pretend he isn't watching the door whenever his grandma looks at him.

When Yahaba finally enters, Kyoutani doesn't look at him immediately, even though he really wants to, he waits until Yahaba comes to him and sprawls himself across Kyoutani's back with a loud groan, nuzzling his face into his shoulder.

“Sorry I'm late,” he sighs, blinking at Kyoutani drowsily, “it's just so hot out there today and it just took me forever to ride over here”. 

Kyoutani glances at him, stills, frowns deeper and then reaches for Yahaba's cheeks, “What happened to your face?” he asks, his words drenched with worry. 

“Rude,” Yahaba says, letting Kyoutani's fingers knead over his cheeks as he stares determinedly at a point behind Kyoutani's head, willing himself not to blush. And he hisses when his gentle fingers prod at a sensitive patch of skin, “Ah,” he says a little sheepishly, “I must have gotten a little sunburnt,” and Kyoutani sighs deeply. 

“You're such an idiot,” he scowls, and goes off to grab a bottle of water and sunscreen, he shoves them into Yahaba's arms when he returns, and says, “Drink the water, I'll be right back”. 

Kyoutani runs off to go get some after sun-care cream, and Yahaba stares after him, feeling a drowsy smile blossom on his face. 

(Kyoutani comes back with sun-care cream, but he also brings along with him a pair of lime green sunglasses and a peaked hat with a flap on the back just so Yahaba can look like the coolest guy in town). 

–

“He's not here today kiddo,” she says after a moment of joyfully watching Yahaba walk hopelessly about her store, “but I can ring you up”.

Yahaba goes to her, a large pout on his lips, and leans against the counter as he throws her the cookies he's buying. “It's kinda weird,” he says to her conversationally even though she doesn't seem the sort to want to have a conversation with her customers, “Kyoutani and I used to bicker all the time, or we just avoided each other and now he's just kind of, _nice_?” 

She throws him a tired glance, and says,“I think you are the one who put an end to the avoiding, a day doesn't pass when you aren't here,” she sighs, even though that's a lie, Yahaba actually hasn't turned up two days out of the four weeks he's been coming. She adds, raised eyebrows pointed towards him, “And I think you know as well as I do why you are here all the time”. 

“Nahh,” Yahaba waves a hand, ignoring the last part, although the red tinge to his cheeks shows that he'd heard, “the avoiding thing kinda stopped in third year, he came to practice a lot more and, I don't know, he was just suddenly a lot easier to deal with, he's just quiet mostly and only occasionally snaps,” he smiles thoughtfully, thinking back to their many practice sessions fondly. 

“Probably because he likes you,” she admits easily shoving his things into a bag, and Yahaba isn't prepared for it. 

Yahaba furrows his eyebrows, his eyes comically wide, “What?” he asks. 

She rolls her eyes, “You heard me,” she says.

He fidgets his feet, a full on blush softly raising to his cheeks, “I thought you weren't willing to disclose employee information,” he says calmly, despite being able to actually feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. 

“You both are too slow,” she says, and then smiles genuinely up at him, “I want my grandson to be happy,” she says, and reaches forward to grab Yahaba's hand which she pats gently, “and I know you'll make him happy”.

Yahaba's embarrassment becomes more pronounced. He gives her a small, almost shy smile, before he bows deeply, and cries, “Thank you very much for the information, and for your approval!” before hurrying out of the store without looking back. 

 

–

The next day, Yahaba turns up with freckles on his nose from his sunburn, and grabs a handful of Kyoutani's ass as he's passing by, at which Kyoutani yelps loudly, turning to him with wide, affronted eyes. “Where were you yesterday?” He asks, grinning sharply, close to Kyoutani's face, his chin resting on his shoulder. 

Kyoutani knocks his hand off his ass, and his answering glare has something hot slipping through Yahaba's body that he will address later. “I'll forgive you,” he drawls, eyes dark, “if you let me smack your ass, too,” the dangerous image is ruined when a grin slips onto his face.

Yahaba shrieks in laughter, and begins running off down the aisle, and Kyoutani follows him closely, his smile never leaving his lips. 

–

Kyoutani's grandmother comes to a halt at the end of the aisle, finding Yahaba laughing loudly, bent over a freezer whilst Kyoutani brings down a slow hand to gently tap him on the ass, a soft smile on his lips as he watches Yahaba's face.

Their heads snap towards her when she sighs loudly. Yahaba grins, unashamed, whilst Kyoutani turns the darkest shade of red they have in their shitty paint section. 

“Not the weirdest thing that's happened here,” she says, and leaves them to it. 

(The _weirdest_ thing had involved the previous volleyball captain and his ace.) 

 

–

Yahaba enters the shop, already smiling, and his smile grows wider when Kyoutani's grandma calls out to him, “He's round the back, he was getting too antsy when he was waiting for you so I sent him out,” and he heads outside again to find him after sending her a grateful wave.

Kyoutani is leaning against the back wall, a bottle of water in his hand and Yahaba is suddenly seized by how much he _missed_ him even though it's only been a few hours. 

He runs up to him, crashing into his chest and Kyoutani throws an arm around his shoulders to brace him, smiling softly down at him. Yahaba laughs, and leans forward to kiss his cheek without really thinking about it. 

Kyoutani freezes up beneath his lips, and Yahaba immediately pulls back, dread settling in his stomach. 

Kyoutani doesn't say anything, just watches him with wide, unblinking eyes and Yahaba takes it to mean the worst. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, not looking up, “sorry,” he says again, and steps away, Kyoutani's arm limply slipping off his shoulders. 

He steps further away from him, not meeting his eyes, and the bubble of happiness that had been cultivated this summer, _breaks_.

Yahaba rushes home, a hard lump forming in his throat. 

– 

His mother enters the house with a bang, and a loud, exhausted sigh. 

“I can't believe you got to laze around here all day whilst us teachers had to go in for teacher training,” she complains as she slips out of her heels with a relieved sigh, and drops her handbag on the floor on the way towards him.

Yahaba is a rolled up ball on the couch, and she gently rolls him over with her foot to free up some space for her. She collapses next to him with a deep sigh, before immediately hurrying up out of her seat with a gasp of horror, “Ugh, Shigeru you got sweat all over the couch,” she cries, throwing up her arms, and goes to grab the multi-purpose cleaner and a sponge from beneath the sink. 

She comes back, blows her soft blond hair out of her eyes, and begins scrubbing away the sweat when Yahaba sniffles loudly; she freezes immediately, finally looking over at him, and the smile falls off her lips, “What's wrong?” she asks, worry now crumpling her brow. 

Yahaba groans again, stretches out his arms towards her and she lets out a little huff of laughter, before settling next to him so he can crawl into her lap, although he's much too big for it now. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks after a moment, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he presses his forehead to her shoulder. 

There's a long stretch of silence, in which she methodically rubs soothing circles into his back before he says,“I kissed Kyoutani,” his voice barely above a whisper. Yahaba feels a hard pressure behind his eyes, and a lump clogs up his throat which he finds hard to breathe around, his breath coming in shakily. He adds, voice thick and quiet, “And he reacted badly,” he bites down harshly on his bottom lip, buries his nails into his palms to keep in the tears – it's not that big a deal he tells himself again, as he has been for the passed few hours, why are you even trying not to cry? Why do you even want to?

His mother squeezes him tighter when she hears the tears shaking his voice, “I'm sorry, Shigeru,” she murmurs softly, gently carding her fingers through his hair, “Sometimes these things just don't work out,” she takes in a deep breath, before slowly letting it out, “and it's really hard,” - her voice catches - “and I'm just so sorry this has happened to you”. 

She leans down to softly kiss his forehead, and when he meets her warm, caring eyes the tears he'd been working so hard to keep back finally come out – his face crumples, tears spilling from his eyes and down his cheeks as his lips sink into a horrible, broken and wobbling frown and then he collapses back down into her arms, sobbing – and she holds him close, feels tears burning in her own eyes, and her heart aches desperately for her son. 

“It's okay,” she murmurs quietly, even though right now it isn't, “it's okay,” she says again, and she rocks him gently in her arms. 

-

There are dark circles beneath Kyoutani's eyes, and he rubs at them tiredly as he stocks the shelves. 

His grandmother approaches him from behind and he startles when she gently touches his arm, “You okay?” she asks.

“Fine,” he grunts back at her, not meeting her eyes.

She nods her head, decides to wait until he wants to tell her and says, “Yahaba is waiting outside for you,” she squeezes his shoulder again before departing.

Kyoutani feels his heart-rate increasing, he lets out one, long steadying breath, counts to ten in his head and then heads for the door, wiping his sweaty palms on his shorts as he goes.

Yahaba is indeed waiting for him, and Kyoutani leans up against the wall next to him, his shoulders hunched. 

After a beat of awkward silence between them, Yahaba takes in a deep breath, preparing to speak, but before he can get any words out Kyoutani blurts, “I'm really sorry about yesterday,” and scrubs a hand through his short hair, “I didn't know how to react and I'm just _sorry_ ,” he says. 

Yahaba prods him in the arm, and he looks over to him to find him smiling softly. “It's okay,” he says quietly, “you don't have to apologise for not wanting it, I'm sorry for kissing you”. 

“No,” Kyoutani grunts stubbornly, worrying at his bottom lip as his ears burn red, “I want you to kiss me,” he admits quietly, “I was just surprised that you actually wanted too,” he turns his gaze down to the ground, the blush spreading to his neck. 

Yahaba stares at him with wide eyes, and then a grin slips onto his face. He grabs Kyoutani's shoulders who looks up at him, startled, before pulling him forwards so he can press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Kyoutani's cheek heats up beneath his lips, and Yahaba smiles wider, dancing himself back against the wall with a soft laugh, and pulling Kyoutani close to him, his chest pressing against his. 

Kyoutani tilts his head slowly toward him, their noses brush, and they just stare at each other for a moment. “Can I kiss you?” Yahaba asks, a tremor hiding in his voice.

And Kyoutani breathes, “Yes,” his voice barely above a whisper. 

Yahaba watches Kyoutani's eyes slip closed from beneath his lashes, stares at the dusting of freckles on his nose and at his slightly parted, pink lips; he presses his face forward then, tugged forward at the same time by Kyoutani's hand on his collar, and closes the small distance between them. 

The first brush of lips leaves his heart beating out of control, his lips burning with a heat that spreads throughout his body – a nervous laugh slips out of his mouth, that is just a puff of breath, and Kyoutani brings a warm, calloused hand up to his cheek to hold him steady, and presses their lips together again, more firmly this time.

Yahaba's eyes slide closed, their lips move together almost seamlessly except when Kyoutani accidentally bites his bottom lip, pulls back to murmur a _sorry_ he doesn't get out as Yahaba is already pulling him back in. He feels the air building in his chest, and he slowly lets it out through his nose in one long stream – his heart beating like a jack-hammer against his ribs. 

Kyoutani's tongue darts out to lick shyly at the seam of Yahaba's lips, who opens to him, and Kyoutani's tongue tentatively slips in, warm and gentle as Yahaba moves his own against his; a slick press of tongues and lips.

Yahaba clutches at the hard muscle of Kyoutani's shoulder as they kiss, whilst Kyoutani gently cradles his face, his fingers slipping up on one hand to card through his hair. 

Kyoutani pulls back first, with an almost giddy, breathless laugh bubbling out of his mouth, pressing his forehead against Yahaba's, a gentle smile on his lips as his eyes remain closed.

Yahaba watches him, his eyes soft and smile warm, and he ends up pressing forwards again to place a chaste kiss to his lips before leaning back against the wall, watching Kyoutani.

Kyoutani slowly opens his eyes and they look even more like molten gold when the sun reflects in them. “You are so beautiful,” Yahaba murmurs, breathlessly and Kyoutani pulls back with a grunt of disgust, his cheeks aflame.

“Shut up,” he says in return, and Yahaba just smiles, clutches his arm and rests his head on his shoulder as he drags him away from the store.

–

They walk home together, their joined hands squished between them as Yahaba leans heavily against Kyoutani, a grin on his face as he looks over at him.

“Where are we going?” Yahaba asks, the question slips right into Kyoutani's ear and he shivers, turning his scowl away when Yahaba chuckles softly.

“I'm walking you home,” he grunts, and then looks down at Yahaba's face on his shoulder through his eyelashes, “you can finally show me your cat.” 

Yahaba immediately begins to sweat, and he's sure Kyoutani can feel it on his palms. He swallows dryly, his mind whizzing around for an excuse when Kyoutani suddenly snorts quietly and Yahaba whips his eyes up to him.

“I knew you didn't have a cat,” he chortles quietly, his usually scowling face filled to the brim with amusement, his free hand covering his lips as he laughs again, “you are such a bad liar”.

Yahaba pouts, “I'm not _that_ bad at lying,” he says, and Kyoutani only laughs again. 

They continue on in silence for a moment, Kyoutani staring up at the yellowing sky whilst Yahaba watches him. 

“Shit,” Kyoutani says suddenly, breaking the moment, turning half-way and staring back the way they came, “I'm still meant to be working”.

Yahaba spins him back to him, brushes the tips of their noses together before stepping back to grin teasingly, “I'm sure your grandmother won't mind if I have you all to myself today,” and he leans in closer again so their lips are almost touching and tingling when Kyoutani lets out a stuttered breath. 

“You are so cringey,” Kyoutani murmurs, but there's a soft smile on his face as he glances down to Yahaba's lips, almost going cross-eyed to do so. 

Yahaba kisses him, finding that expression unbelievably endearing, he slides his fingers along his jaw, letting them drop off one by one as they kiss, and then he pulls back, breathing hard. “But you still like me even though I am,” he says, his eyes slowly sliding open. 

“I _do_ still like you,” Kyoutani says, his voice slightly gravelly from all the kissing they've done, “I _really_ like you,” and he sounds almost surprised by his own declaration, but quietly pleased. 

Yahaba looks away, his cheeks warm, he entwines their fingers again and knocks his hip against Kyoutani's, “I like you too,” he says, “I _really_ like you”.

And they walk home together, under the gentle, setting sun. Kyoutani pulls him into a soft kiss at his garden gate, in his gruff sort of embarrassed way, and kisses him until his knees go weak, his rough hands clutching Yahaba's soft cheeks, and then Yahaba watches him until he reaches the end of the street, at which he turns and Yahaba waves his hand wildly to him, and he smiles, gives a gentle shake of his head and disappears around the corner. 

Yahaba enters his house, his heart soaring and a soft smile on his face. 

His mother gives him a wide grin over the top of couch, and says, “I'm glad things worked out for you,” and then she turns back to the TV, as if she'd said nothing at all.

Extra: (a bit of a time skip). 

A 'good morning,' texts lights up his phone screen when it is most definitely not a _good morning_ , and Yahaba blinks blearily up at it.

'who's this?' he types back, his eyes squinted against the light of his phone.

'kentarou' comes the reply and Yahaba immediately scrambles to reply, suddenly wide awake.

'kentarou? you got a phone?' He types back, and then adds a few moments later, 'Also how did you get my number?' He has to wait a long time for the reply, which he assumes is because Kyoutani is still getting used to it, and which he finds kind of cute, imagining Kyoutani frowning at his phone as tries to figure out how to work it. 

He practically dives upon his phone again when it lights up with another message. 'watari' is all he gets after a long wait, and he pouts, but he's not left disappointed for long when his phone lights up again a second later with a picture, Kentarou scowling triumphantly in the early morning light whilst Watari grins brightly at his side, Yahaba's own house in the background. 

Yahaba drops his phone on his bed, and races out in his pyjamas, sounding like an elephant thundering down the stairs. His mum sits up on the couch, messy haired and slurs sleepily, “where are you going?”.

“Mum it's school today,” he tells her as he wrestles on his shoes, “you have to get to work”.

“Ugh,” she says, and throws herself back down onto the couch, clearly having no intention of moving at the moment. 

“Kentarou,” he yells as he throws open the front door, Watari makes a face at him and says, ”I'm here _too_ ,” at which Yahaba just grins smugly over at him, wrapping his arms around Kyoutani's neck who'd had a small smile on his lips as soon as Yahaba had appeared at the door. 

Yahaba pulls him across the gate into a gentle kiss, murmurs, “Good morning,” against his lips. 

“Nooo,” Watari whines, shielding his eyes from the sight and Yahaba smiles, turning his face to Watari, his cheek against Kyoutani's lips, “I'm happy for you guys but please, just, _don't_.”

Kyoutani gently pushes him back a step, apparently embarrassed about making a show, “Go get changed, Shigeru,” he murmurs.

Yahaba grabs his wrist, looks up at him as he bites his bottom lip, “Come with me,” he says and Kyoutani flushes up to the roots of his hair.

“No,” Watari says, stamping his feet towards them, “Kyoutani will stay here with me, and we will be innocent this morning” - he glances at his watch - “and not late for the first day of school!! hurry up Yahaba!”. 

Yahaba laughs, presses a finger gently to Kyoutani's blush and then heads back inside, unable to wipe the smile from his face. 

– 

(“ _Finally_ ,” Kyoutani's grandmother huffs when they enter her shop after a long day of school, holding hands, and says nothing more as she turns back to her book. Kyoutani burns red, and Yahaba can't do anything but smile at him adoringly). 

\- Fin

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super tired right now it's like 2:30am here so I'm gonna do some more editing probably tomorrow but right now I am off to bed.
> 
> I hope you liked this fruit of my hard labour lol. Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Have a wonderful day/night lovelies :))) be seeing you soon (hopefully, if you wish to return to me) with some more kyouhaba - idk i have many kyouhabas coming. 
> 
> You can find me at: sakuragimichi.tumblr.com :))))


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